A Captainy Confrontation of an Incorrect Calculati
by Little Green Voice
Summary: Approximately there's a 78% chance of a fight, 12% chance of a civilized conversation and a 9% chance of one of you cowering." River makes a calculation. Mal/Simon slash short oneshot but there might be more if you feel there should


**Fandom**: Firefly

**Rating**: PG-13

**Pairing**: Mal/Simon slash

**Warnings**: stupid denial, too much thinking

**Summary**: Short take on how smart River is, how worrying Simon is and how Mal Mal is.

**A/N**: WHOA THAT MUST BE THE LONGEST TITLE I'VE EVER GIVEN TO A FANFIC! But otherwise, the story ain't that long... Hmm, what to say. This started off with the conversation between River and Simon and then I wanted to write some more. So I did. Just a short funny story, though. I'm sure about the ending, this is how it should be, but I'm very much not sure about if this should be the only chapter. This is ranked as "complete" because it can just be like this and that's it, but I'm warning you that there might be another chapter.

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_A Firefly fan fiction story by **The Little Green Voice:**_

**A CAPTAINY CONFRONTATION OF AN INCORRECT CALCULATION**_**  
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"There's nothing you can do about it, silly Simon." River's gentle voice said and after a soft sigh she continued: "It's just the way it is. It's not a thing you can fix, 'cause it's not broken."

Simon stopped his work and stared at her sister. They were in the infirmary and River was sitting on her usual place, on the side bed. It was just another day on Serenity and as everyday, Simon hoped that today might be the day he could make River right again. Apparently not, then.

"I'm not talking about me, Simon."

Oh. Oh, well. Of course she wasn't. Simon sighed and left his work to sit down next to his sister. She was talking about what he had been thinking. Just briefly, though, but that was enough for his genius sister.

"I know what you mean," He said, sighing tiredly. "But it's not easy. It's not-"

"It is possible. Approximately there's a 78% chance of a fight, 12% chance of a civilized conversation and a 9% chance of one of you cowering." She said all this quickly in a clear, soft voice, seemingly without much thinking. And then she smiled like the sun at her stunned brother.

"You're – um – You're … missing one percent, meimei," Simon said after staring at River for a minute. Her smile faltered.

"That's your chance to get shot," she said with a stern voice.

"Shot?!"

"By Kaylee."

"Kaylee?!"

"Yes." River was looking at him in a very serious way, but then there was a bubbling outburst of laughter and she hugged him.

"It was a joke, Simon!"

"But…" Simon was confused.

"The missing percent is the possibility for someone or something to interrupt you."

"So what's the odds for me to … to succeed…?"

"Depends on what you want." She tilted her head, looking curious. As if she didn't know.

"I want Mal," Simon said a tad too fast after glancing towards the door to make sure no-one but River would hear. Immediately he felt his whole body blush like mad. He didn't remember never ever before saying that out loud.

"99,98% probability for that, then. If I were you I'd try," she said with a smile. "But then again, I'm smart." She jumped off the bed, skipping to the door of the infirmary like a child running off to the playground.

"What's the 0,02% about?" Simon yelled when River disappeared through the door. Her head popped back into his view, black hair swishing around playfully.

"Random error, of course. Usually on Serenity it means _you_ messing up a perfectly shiny plan." And one more smirk later she was gone, only a giggle echoing from the corridor.

Simon leaned his back to the wall and closed his eyes. What was he going to do with that information anyway? And if - or rather _when_ – his genius sister was right, he had the minimal chance to affect anything, with those odds, they'd most likely end up together anyway. It was really truly annoying. Simon had never been one of those people who cowered in front of fate or a god of some kind, he mostly relied on science and facts. After all, that's what his job was about. He knew that the captain would not find out if he just decided to stay here and work all day, shut up on meals, talk only to Kaylee more than a few words and go to bed early like he always did. So he did have the choice to not to do anything, despite the maths. But then again, if he'd act on it, according to her he'd succeed. He'd get Mal. He'd get what he wanted. And if he was honest, he did want Mal.

And there was the biggest problem. What would that mean? What would happen next? What would it be like? Would it work? Did he really want Mal or is it just the psychological tricks of being on board a small ship together too long? And if it was something else, how could he ever act on it? What about Inara - or Kaylee? And what would Zoe say – or worse, do? What would Jayne do, leave the ship? And how many jokes could Wash come up with about it? Would it ever end – meaning the joking _and_ the possible romantic relationship? And how badly would it end when even the start wasn't what you could even lie to be "shiny". Not that they really had a relationship, even in the way normal crew members did. They spent far too much time fighting and misunderstanding each other… Simon couldn't even remember one decent conversation between him and Mal. And yet he'd managed to fall for the man.

You'd imagine Simon would be all but running to find the captain, but instead, here he still was. Sitting and pondering if the thing he's wanted for a year now is after all a good idea. It was infuriating.

In the end, Simon was still sitting on the side bed staring at the ceiling when Inara came down to the infirmary to ask him if he could help her with cooking. He let himself to be led to the kitchen, waving off the questions of if something bothered him. He concentrated on the task at hand – namely making mush to appear something like pasta with tomato sauce.

He had almost forgotten the whole discussion with River when Mal strolled in the kitchen like he owned the place. Which he did, but you know, you'll get the picture: strutting, looking sexy with the first top buttons of his shirt open. Simon couldn't tear his eyes off of him.

"So, Doc, what's this thing about a 0.02 percent chance of me rejecting you?" Mal asked looking straight at Simon's eyes when he got through the door and leaned casually to the wall next to it. There was a slight smirk on his lips.

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**A/N**: The title tells it all about the ending, in case someone's left wondering where this leads to... :) And while we're talking about leading this somewhere, would you like to have a sequel?


End file.
